Draykon (41 page)

'It's not an
animal,' she whispered, awed.

'What? Eva,
please. We have to get away from here.' Tren was pulling at her,
and she knew he was right but she couldn't obey him. Not even when
the fabric of the room began to ripple and shiver, similar to the
Lowers' behaviour when the light began to change. But the white
moon overhead remained constant. Eva felt the closeness of the
other worlds, pulsing behind the flimsy fabric of the Lowers as if
they sought to break through.

The draykon was
nearly fully alert now, its movements growing quicker and sharper.
Its attention turned to the small figure of Ana standing at its
feet. It opened its mouth slightly, revealing the glitter of teeth
as its body tensed, ready to strike. Eva screamed a warning, but it
was futile. She couldn't possibly reach Ana in time.

She had forgotten
about Griel. He emerged from the shadows, launching himself at the
spot where Ana stood. Ana fell, screaming with rage, just as the
draykon struck. Its powerful teeth ripped through Griel's body with
appalling ease. The sorcerer didn't make a sound, just crumpled to
the floor and lay still. Ana bent over him, weeping and screaming,
oblivious to the renewed attention of the beast crouching over
her.

It braced itself
to strike at Ana, but then it stopped, distracted. The disruption
in the weave of the world intensified so fast that Eva felt
suddenly nauseous, sensing the fabric of the worlds fraying as
though a large hole were being torn through. A figure appeared, a
faint outline that grew rapidly more solid. It was the slight,
winged female Eva had glimpsed walking in the Uppers. As her form
solidified, Eva realised, to her complete astonishment, that she
recognised the woman's black hair, grey wings and clear grey
eyes.

Llandry
Sanfaer.

Llandry collapsed
onto the stone floor, curled up in obvious pain. She was panting,
hyperventilating, her small body shaking uncontrollably. Eva rushed
forward, kneeling at her side, trying with word and gesture to
soothe her.

Llandry finally
sat up, still shaking. She seemed so fragile, a mere wisp of a
woman wracked with pain. Eva hovered over her, unsure how to help
her. She realised belatedly that the stone chamber was disappearing
around them, replaced with a spreading forest of glissenwol caps.
The change radiated outwards from the spot where Llandry sat
trembling, her eyes taking in the transformation with complete
incomprehension. She was changing the Lowers in the same way Ana
had done; the way Eva had done when she'd held an istore piece in
her hands. But the imposition of her will over her surroundings
seemed involuntary. How could she not even know what she was
doing?

Then her
trembling intensified once more, shaking so hard that Eva was
filled with serious alarm. She gripped Llandry's delicate frame,
trying to support her, talking to her soothingly. Tren knelt now on
her other side, helping to steady her. His eyes met Eva's,
betraying a helplessness that matched her own. Despite their
efforts, Llandry collapsed back onto the stone, curling herself
around her belly. Then she screamed, shockingly loud, a raw cry of
absolute agony.

Chapter Twenty Seven

Llandry felt as
though her body was turning itself inside out. The sensation
mirrored the way she had felt when she had crossed into the Upper
Realm, but now it was infinitely worse. It was a familiar pain; she
had felt it before, with increasing frequency since she had
discovered the draykon bone, but this bout was extreme; she truly
felt that she might break into pieces. She lay curled around her
stomach that pulsed with pain, her face wet with tears of shock.
She forced her eyes open and found herself in near darkness,
surrounded by figures whose faces were obscured by shadow. She
closed her eyes again, squeezing them tightly shut like a child
hoping it would go away if only she couldn't see it.

She tried to
think back. She had left her grandfather's house a few hours ago.
Finding herself still too sore to fly, she had walked instead,
making her way somewhat aimlessly through Rheas's pretty alpine
valley. To her confusion, the mountains had melted away before she
had reached them. Glissenwol caps had crowded in upon her in their
place, tall and draped with vines, just like the trees at home.
This changefulness made her nervous, and she had redoubled her
efforts to find a gate to take her home.

Instead of
finding a gate, she had found herself back at the site of the
skeleton, the one her grandfather said was a draykon. Its bones
drew her in some way that she was powerless to resist. She had
replaced the piece she had taken earlier, fitting it back into the
map of bones out of some compulsion she didn't understand. Then, as
she crouched in the earth with her hands pressed against the bones,
she'd felt energy suddenly roar into life beneath her fingers, and
a mind flared abruptly into consciousness.

And that was when
everything had begun to go horribly wrong.

It had begun with
a sensation of tugging, as though hands grabbed at every part of
her body and tried to drag her away. It had become extremely
difficult to walk. Llandry fiercely resisted the tug, but then the
pain hit her. Crumpling to the ground, she had had time to glimpse
the world dissolving around her before her vision had darkened and
she had closed her eyes.

Now, on top of
everything else, she was hallucinating. A voice spoke to her, a
deep female one with a refined Glour accent. Peeping through her
lashes, Llandry thought she saw Lady Glostrum's face. That was not
possible. She laughed weakly, trying to sit up. Dizziness engulfed
her and she rapidly abandoned the endeavour. A gentle hand pressed
her back to the ground.

'Don't move,
Llandry. I think that would be best.'

The apparition
knew her name, then. Llandry stared at the face hazily.

'Where am I?' Her
words emerged weak and rather slurred. She grimaced.

'You're in the
Lowers, Llandry. No, I don't know how you got here. Just lie
still.'

'Are you Lady
Glostrum, or am I dreaming?'

'No, I'm really
here.' Llandry opened her mouth but Lady Glostrum cut her off.
'Don't ask; there isn't time to explain.'

A glitter of
silver caught Llandry's eye. She turned her head painfully. On the
floor a few feet away lay a pool of silver links, in the midst of
which rested a round piece of wrought silver. Llandry turned her
eyes away but there was a familiarity about the shape of the
necklace that tugged at her. She forced herself on to her hands and
knees, grimly ignoring the pain, and inched her way over to it.
Before she could reach it, Lady Glostrum picked it up. She handed
it to her, gently pushing her back down to the ground.

Llandry turned
the silver over in her hands. It was slightly oval in shape,
engraved with stars. A cavity in the centre had, she knew, once
held a piece of istore. She knew because she had placed it there
herself.

It was
undoubtedly the same pendant that Devary had been
carrying.

She hardly knew
how to process this new blow. Her mind and body were ripe with so
much intense pain, she could barely feel any new stab of
affliction. She allowed the necklace to fall from her numb fingers,
blinking eyes gone bone dry.

Llandry felt
herself nudged from behind. Powerfully nudged, like being kicked by
a house. The impact sent new waves of agony through her abused
frame and she screamed again. Lady Glostrum's eyes widened and her
face turned to ash as she stared behind Llandry.

'Tren,' she said,
tightly.

'Right,' said a
male voice, then a pair of strong arms were around her, trying to
pick her up. Everywhere she was touched her skin
burned
, as
if a brand had been applied, and she screamed anew through the
rawness in her throat. The man abandoned his attempts to gather her
up, mercifully taking his hands away. Llandry ceased to be aware of
anything external to her own body. She was wracked by a sensation
of lengthening, as though her bones were stretching through her
skin. She imagined, distantly, that this must be what it felt like
to be racked.

Space opened
inside of her and began to expand, pushing her flesh outwards. She
felt every second as though she must explode, but somehow she did
not. Instead she began to feel strong, impossibly so. She opened
her eyes again, and she couldn't see Lady Glostrum anymore.
Everything she saw was distorted, out of proportion. She blinked,
and her eyes felt strange.

She was nudged
again. This time it didn't hurt. Turning, she was confronted with a
huge, dark shape, a beast whose scales glittered blue and green in
the moonlight. Her vision had somehow sharpened, for now she could
discern colours and textures in light that, previously, had seemed
near complete darkness to her.

A long snout
descended into her line of sight and pushed at her body. The
gesture seemed friendly, like encouragement. Her pain finally
ebbed, running off her like water, and in its place she experienced
a jolt of energy. She stretched her wings and they expanded, out
and out, until they encountered an obstruction.

Trees. Glissenwol
caps, the same forest she had been walking through moments before,
only now those stout trunks did not seem so tall. In fact the caps
now hovered so close she would bump her head on them if she
stretched her neck a little. The obstruction irritated her. As if
in response to her unspoken command, the trees flickered and
dissolved, and open air flooded in upon her. She shouted with joy,
stretching her wings to their fullest extent. The wind caught under
them and she was aloft, soaring into the sky with a rushing speed
which terrified, then exhilarated her. Screaming in pleasure, she
turned in the air like a leaf tumbling in the wind.

A terrific roar
shook the air and she turned. Behind her flew the blue-scaled
beast, rapidly catching up with her. He was larger than she,
stronger; the gleam of his hide mesmerised her, shining gloriously
with scintillating shades of blue, green and gold. She had never
experienced colour in this way before: she could feel each one like
a physical sensation, taste the flavours of them on the wind. She
circled the creature, enthralled.

A bright flash
distracted her, shining up at her from the ground. Her newly-sharp
eyes caught sight of the pool of silver lying abandoned behind her,
shimmering whitely under the moon. She wanted it. She flew back,
covering the distance in seconds. Swooping, she caught it up in her
claws. Several tiny figures gaped at her as she hurled herself back
into the skies. The shape and scent and sense of their miniature
forms was familiar, dragging at her memory, interrupting the wash
of colour and sensation that drenched her brain. She paused,
beating her wings lazily to hold herself aloft.

An image formed
in her mind. A face smiled at her, pale and lit with hazel eyes.
The man's brown hair fell over his shoulders. She heard music, the
rippling notes of a lyre.

Another
shattering roar rent the air behind her. Glittering blue scales
hurtled into her line of vision, pulsing with anger. A mind invaded
hers, enraged that she could turn her back on it. He was
possessive, this wondrous creature; as far as he was concerned she
was
his
. She found herself herded away from the figures on
the ground, forced up into the air. She screamed her resentment,
her teeth connecting with the tough meat of a scaled flank. Then
she was away, her smaller size and lighter form speeding her on
ahead of the beast pursuing her. All she could think of was that
pale face with the brown hair and the lyre's melancholy
melody.

***

Devary lay in the
damp grass, dreaming. Time had drifted by him at its own pace,
leaving him forgotten: had he lain in the grass for mere hours, or
even days? It felt like weeks. He watched insects dance in the
twilit skies, absently noting his strength draining out of him in a
warm, ceaseless trickle that left his clothes wet and sticky. He
had an image of red in his mind, a shockingly bright, wet colour
that darkened later to a crusted, rusty brown. He realised,
distantly, that he was dying but the knowledge did not disturb him.
He waited for sleep.

The insects were
changing colour. He noticed a ghostly grey one coming towards him,
throwing out silver light. Borne on expansive wings, it grew larger
and larger until it filled all of his vision with scales like
polished coins. It stretched out its long neck, opened its mouth
and shrieked. As it plummeted towards him, Devary noticed a bright
silver object clutched tightly in one of its claws. The metal
dangled freely, reflecting shards of light from mirror-smooth
surfaces that dazzled him. He closed his eyes as the vast shape
flew over him, feeling a rush of hot wind in its wake.

He knew he was
dreaming when those claws closed gently around his body and he was
carried into the air, cradled carefully against gleaming
silver-grey hide. The wind whipped around him, tugging insistently
at his clothes and dragging at his wounds. Pain lanced through him
and he cried out, shifting in the grip of pearlescent talons. His
captor flew faster, driving hard into the face of a strong wind.
Devary thought he saw another shape not far behind, this one
shining in blue and green. He watched lazily as the creature
pursued them, beating wings the size of houses.